Under My Skin
by blacksouledbutterfly
Summary: Rachel sort of owns Puck and can get him to do just about anything. He's not sure why he doesn't mind.


Puck legit doesn't know how he legit turned into Rachel Berry's bitch. Okay, so maybe not her bitch but he does an awful lot of shit for her. If he had known moving to New York would mean that he would have to do a million fucking things for the pintsized diva he's not so sure he would actually would have move to the city. Actually, well, he would have moved to the city no matter what. But he would have tried to avoid being her little errand runner. And yeah, he knows he doesn't have to, but the thing is? He doesn't seem to be able to stop from doing it. It's like he just can't tell her no.

The first time? Yeah, he totally understood why she was asking him for help. She was moving out of her damn apartment because she couldn't stand her neighbors- apparently they were louder than she could handle into the wee hours of the morning when she was trying to sleep. And at first she just called him to complain about her neighbors and in the end he ended up going over and _politely_ trying to tell them to shut the fuck up and let her sleep some. But that didn't end up working. So in the end he had to help her pack up her shit and move to another apartment. Because they weren't quite enough even after he spoke to them. And it was hard for her to move out of her apartment on her own. So, really, he didn't mind helping her with that, at least.

The second thing she needed was for him to help her run lines for this audition she had. He told her 'no' at first because it annoyed the shit out of him, the idea of doing that for her. But in the end he agreed so he went to her little apartment and had to sit there and run lines with her for about an hour. She got the part in the end though. So he guessed it was sort of worth it. But he doesn't let her know that in the end he didn't really mind running lines with her if it ended up getting her the part because then she would just ask him to run lines with her every time an audition came up for her.

There were a million other different little favors he helped her out with that he can't even really remember what they were. He just knew that somehow she always got him to agree to help her with whatever the fuck it was that she needed help with. It was like she had some strange hold over him, almost like she controlled him in a way even though he knew that she didn't control him at all. He just helped her because, well, she was Rachel and he just couldn't help himself as pathetic as that sounded. She had this strange hold over him that he couldn't deny even if he tried. Not that he was ready to admit it out loud or anything of the like.

The third big favor was definitely a huge favor. She had problems with her apartment- a flooding problem- and so she asked him if she could stay with him for a little while. He wasn't really loving the idea of her staying with him. It would totally but a cramp in his whole bachelor lifestyle but she gave him this really sweet smile and batted her big eyes at him and he fucking gave in. He always gave in. He just couldn't really stop himself. It was both scary and sort of amusing.

In the end he _did_ decide to let her come stay with him. It wasn't as though it was going to be permanent and what else could he do? She had to wait for her electricity to be fixed and everything. So he let her come stay on his couch. It wasn't really the best place but it pulled out into a bed so at least she would be a tiny bit comfortable. He didn't think it could be that bad having her there. And he could last a couple of weeks without bringing home a girl to the apartment.

Truth was it was sort of nice having her there. He kept that bit of information to himself but it _was_ nice. She did all of the cleaning even though he told her that she didn't have to and she cooked constantly. She even made food that wasn't vegan just because she knew he wasn't into that whole no stuff from animals stuff. It wasn't really bad. It was like having this roommate that was almost a girlfriend only not a girlfriend. It meant that he could go out with girls and it didn't bother her or anything.

He's actually starting to get to the point where he's so used to having her around he's going to miss her when she moves back to her own apartment. Three weeks and they seem to have gotten into a pattern and he can't say he doesn't enjoy the pattern. Because he honestly and truly does enjoy having her around. But he doesn't want to tell her that because he doesn't want her to feel guilty if she goes back to her apartment. And he knows she'd only feel guilty because she likes to make her friends happy. And they're definitely friends by that point.

So he just plays it off like it doesn't bother him that she's going to be heading back to her apartment soon. He acts like he's sort of looking forward to it. That's better than admitting that it bothers him a little that he's not going to be able to sit with her for coffee in the morning even though that's a little silly. It's not like he'll never see her again or anything. And it's not like she's his girlfriend or anything so he doesn't really have the right to miss having her there in the morning. Doesn't stop how he feels though.

Rachel's out with some friends from the theater group she hangs out with. All of them are aspiring stars like her; all of them have this way about them. He doesn't really fit in with them the way that she does. When she goes out with them she has a lot of fun, or she seems to. She always comes back all smiles and excited. It must be nice for her to get to spend time with people that enjoy the same things that she does. And he is definitely not into the whole Broadway musical theater thing. They can't really talk about that.

He's sitting on the couch which Rachel makes a point to convert back every morning. There's some movie on the television he's not really paying attention to. He's just trying to fill the apartment with noise and it would be pathetic for him to sit there and drink beer with the television off. He would look like a sad, pathetic drunk. And he's a lot of things but he's not that.

Rachel comes in around eleven with this big smile on her face, shrugs her coat off and drapes it over the arm of the chair, kicks off her shoes and pushes them over to the side so that they're not in the way. He sort of loves watching her when she comes into the apartment after spending time with friends because she always looks so very, very happy. He loves being able to see her smile. Because, well, her smile is pretty fucking infectious. He almost always smiles when she smiles. He tries to hide it though so that no one else will see it. Well, so that she doesn't see it. He doesn't think he could explain to her why being around her when she's smiling makes him smile.

She moves over to the couch and all but flops down next to him, stretches her legs out in front of her as she tries to relax. Her hair is hanging around her face in this sort of wavy, beautiful mess and she tilts her head to the side as she looks at him, a slow smile spreading across her face. "Hey." And God, she does that all the time. All the fucking time. Always when she wants something from him. He's too smart to think it's anything other than her wanting something. Every time she's needed a favor she's given him that same head tilt.

"See, there you go with that head tilt thing. You know, you think you're all badass, but whenever you need something it's all…" Cocking his head to the side he mimicked the little head tilt that she does. And yeah, it's not a great imitation but whatever. He's not a girl so he can't really help that he can't really pull off acting like her. "Hey."

"Just be glad I don't flip my hair. I'd own you."

He doesn't tell her that she sort of already does. She sort of really owns his balls which is really fucked up considering he's not even getting laid for the deal. How fucked up is that? He sort of wishes that he knew why he was doing so much for her when he wasn't getting that much in return. It's just because he cares about her though and he's absolutely sure of that. If he didn't care about her then he wouldn't do shit for her no matter how much she batted her eyelashes at him or pouted or tilted her head to the side.

"Maybe." He puts his empty bottle down on the coffee table and sits back again to try to get comfortable, tries to ignore the little head tilt but that head tilt is damn persistent. And that's a really screwed up way to think about it but still. It's like the head tilt can totally own him. Fuck his life for that. He wishes it didn't own him because then he wouldn't be curious about what it is she wants.

"Alright," he relents with a sort of annoyed sigh. "What do you want this time?"

"Well, if you're going to be grumpy about it…"

Nope, the guilt thing wasn't going to work on him. He was going to make sure that it didn't work on him. Because if he let the guilt work on him then he was going to feel bad for talking the way he had and he refuses to feel bad. It isn't like he did anything wrong. But she's good at the pouty thing to try to get exactly what she wants. He doesn't let himself look as though he feels bad though. Instead he just looks at her and arches both of his eyebrows at her, silently telling her to go ahead and fucking tell him what it is that she wants.

"You know I appreciate that you've been letting me stay on your couch, right?"

"You better."

She gives him a slightly dirty look which he just shrugs off. He doesn't care if she gives him a dirty look. It's not like he's been doing anything wrong. And if she expected any other type of response from him? Well, that's her mistake. She knows what he's like so it should come as no surprise to her. "Ass."

"What's your point?"

Rolling her eyes she settles more comfortably on the couch, taps her toes in the air to an imaginary beat, one he can't even begin to try to place. But that doesn't surprise him. She knows a shitload of songs he's never even heard of before. "My point is that as lovely as you've been and as semi comfortable as the couch is I was wondering something."

"You're stalling. Just spit it out already. Not like you're asking me to sell a kidney on the black market or some shit." Pausing for a moment he arches one of his eyebrows. "Wait…you're not, are you?"

"Of course I'm not, you idiot." She rolls her eyes at him again because, well, that is a stupid thing to think she might be asking of him. Why in the world would she want him to sell his damn kidney on the black market? It makes no sense. But his train of thought very rarely makes any sense. Well, more often than not it doesn't. Not to her, at least.

"Good. So, if it's not something fucking ridiculous like that? Then why don't you just tell me what the fuck it is that you want?"

"Can you stop cursing?"

"I can try. I make no promises."

She looks like she doesn't expect anything less. And she really doesn't. She knows Noah well enough to know that cursing is pretty much second nature to him. "Fine." That's as good as it's going to get. She knows she can't get an actual promise from him to watch his mouth. That's just not an ability he has.

"So? Are you going to tell me the favor?"

"Can I sleep in your bed tonight?"

"Excuse me? Can you say that again because I think I have a bit of crazy in my ears?" She gives him another dirty look but he just shrugs his shoulders like he's telling her that he can't control who he is. But seriously, that shit sounds fucking crazy. He never thought he'd live to see the day when Rachel Berry would ask if she could possibly sleep in his bed. Never in a million fucking years. "What? Look, you asked if I could let you sleep in my bed. I never fucking thought I'd see that. Why do you want to sleep in my bed anyway?" It makes no fucking sense to him but, hey, she doesn't always make sense to him.

"I'm in the mood to cuddle tonight," she answers with a slight shrug of her shoulders as though it should be completely and totally obvious. "And you're the only one around for me to cuddle with."

"Good to know I'm a last choice."

"You know I don't mean that." She shifts on the couch and reaches out, nudges him with her foot. "Please? Just say you'll let me sleep in your bed."

"What do I get out of it?"

"Cuddles?"

"And what makes you think I want your cuddles?"

"You adore me, that's what."

She just watches him for a few moments with that puppy dog look on her face and in the end he can't really tell her 'no' so he just shrugs in defeat.

For whatever reason that girl has gotten under his skin. And really? He's not sure he'd do anything about it even if he could.


End file.
